


The Room Right Under The Roof

by belivaird_st



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F, Female Friendship, Friendship/Love, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24494845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belivaird_st/pseuds/belivaird_st
Summary: Carol shows Therese her favorite room at her parents’ old house.
Relationships: Carol Aird/Therese Belivet
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	The Room Right Under The Roof

Carol climbed up a ladder leading to the attic at her parents’ home with Therese following close behind. Pushing a latch door open, the older woman poked her head through the sunlit, hot crawlspace.

“It looks just the same as I left it,” she says, amusingly. Hoisting herself up on the floorboards, she crawled on her bare knees before getting up to her feet, releasing out a hard breath. She quickly bent over to help Therese get on the top floor by pulling her by the arms. Therese held onto Carol, fearfully glancing back down at the open space of the downstairs hallway. It’d be a long drop, if she fell over. Steering themselves further inside, Carol hugged Therese’s smaller body close to hers, rubbing the cotton fabric material of her dress she wore.

“This was my favorite room when I was a little girl,” Carol tells her young female partner, showing her the old trundle bed pushed underneath a half circled window high above a wall with a stuffed brown teddy bear laid between two pillows. On the floor in one corner stood a light purple Victorian dollhouse with black roofing and shutters. A record player was placed on top of a tall stack of photoplay magazines with chairs and boxes everywhere, collecting dust.

“How do you breathe up here? It must be a hundred degrees,” Therese complains, feeling beads of sweat form and trickle down along her temples.

“I would bring cups of ice to chew and cool off,” Carol grins, sheepishly. “The noise would drive my mother crazy and she’d send me on my way.”

Therese walked and gazed around for a bit, trying to imagine a baby Carol hiding from the world. It was hard to see that side, because she thought Carol was a social butterfly who could get along with anybody, easily.

Now the mysterious woman was in the middle of dropping the needle of the record player, releasing out a scratchy, brassy tune of horns bleating out. The song was catchy and made to dance. 

“Still works,” Carol smiles.

“I could really go for those ice chips right now.” Therese now lifts parts of her summer dress to wipe her forehead, giving Carol a nice view of her bloomers.

The golden haired lady whistles and moves forward, gathering the brunette in her arms. Therese holds onto her, feeling her entire skin, body, and soul melting away from the sweltering heat.


End file.
